Framed For Christmas. Jaycee Bullard
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for a walk, eh?”
“It’s cold,” Gideon agreed as he bent to look at the passenger inside the car. Clean-shaven, stocky build, probably not much of a talker if he were to guess from the man’s gloomy countenance. “Do you gentlemen need help?”
“Nope. We’re fine.” The guy in the navy windbreaker dismissed his concerns with a flick of the wrist. “We’re in from Fargo, but we didn’t expect this much snow cover on the highway.”
“You might want to head home and try back later. The storm’s still blowing in, so it’ll be rough for a while.”
“Thanks,” the driver said. “Appreciate the advice.” He slid behind the wheel and did a U-turn on the tarmac.
Gideon watched the taillights of the SUV disappear down the road. When it was completely out of sight, he made his way down the embankment toward the van. His eyes fixed on the rear bumper of the disabled vehicle. The V-shaped fold in the center matched the crack he had noticed on the front of the SUV, a fact he filed away for later consideration.
Using a blade from his pocketknife, he pried open the lock on the gate of the trunk. The kids had taken most of their gear when they left for the cabin, but a few random personal items and bits of trash remained. He tossed a notebook and a bag of Twizzlers into the back seat and whistled for Lou. The shepherd jumped into the cargo hold and began sniffing at the floor. Good thing he was trained to ignore food smells. Wrappers and stained paper napkins were scattered everywhere. But Lou was as single-minded as he was tenacious. His nose twitched as he pawed the top of one of the cardboard boxes that had been shoved toward the back of the trunk.
“What’s in there, boy?” he asked as he reached over and slid open the flap of a box marked BIBLES FOR THE RESERVATION. The pleasant scent of new books assailed his nostrils, and for a minute, he entertained the notion that Lou had been mistaken.
He should have known better. Underneath the top layer of Bibles, a dozen or so plastic bags of loose powder formed a soft white nest. His stomach dropped. Even though this was what he’d been expecting, he had hoped for a different outcome. Packets of loose white powder always meant the same thing. Drugs. He fumbled in his pocket and located his phone, which he used to snap a dozen or so pictures of the stash. Good thing he still had a narcotics identification kit at the cabin. He’d test the powder when he got home, but his gut told him it was cocaine. He loaded the packets into his oversize backpack and shoved the box back where he had found it. This wasn’t the way they did things back at the DEA, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
At least he was wearing gloves.
His ears still upright, Lou nudged a second box and then a third one. The contents were all the same. Anger surged through Gideon’s body like a flame. Even now, two years off the job, the sight of such a huge cache of drugs filled him with revulsion. And fear. There was enough white powder in the back of the van to make someone desperate enough to kill.
“This place is awesome,” Josh exclaimed. “All the furniture is supersized.”
“Mr. Marshall has good taste,” Mary Kate agreed as she ran her fingers along the cushion of one of the leather sofas in the center of the room. “And look how the gold design of the rug matches the rest of the decor.”
“But there’s no TV,” Gabe pointed out.
“And no Christmas tree, either.” Annalise complained. “You’d think with all the pines around here it wouldn’t be that hard to chop one down.”
“Speaking of trees, did anyone notice the massive pile of wood by the barn?” Josh asked. “It must have taken hours to split all those logs.”
“I don’t think it was a problem.” Joe flexed his biceps in a show of solidarity with their host. “Did you see his arms? He must work out constantly to have muscles that size.”
“Let’s take a break from the personal analysis of our host and review the plan.” Dani blushed self-consciously as she glanced nervously at the door. She had also noticed Gideon’s strong arms, but it would be embarrassing if he walked in and overheard any part of their conversation, especially the comments concerning his physique.
“When do you think we’ll get to the reservation?” Lucy asked. “I can’t wait to see all the kids we met last summer.”
“Soon, I hope.” She tried again to get reception on her cell and frowned at the blank screen. “By tomorrow, for sure.”
Definitely by tomorrow, if she had anything to say about it. She had been quick to reassure Lucy, but the fact of the matter was that all of their parents would be worried sick when they found out the group hadn’t arrived as expected. And, with the phones down, there was no way to let them know that everyone was safe.
“Hey, Miss Jones,” Josh called out. “You want a bowl of chips?” He was standing by the kitchen counter, acting like the mayor of Dagger Lake as he dispensed snacks and drinks to the rest of the kids.
“No, thanks,” she said. Given the knot in her stomach, it was unlikely she’d have any appetite for dinner. An image flashed through her brain of the expressionless faces of the men at the gas station. Who were they, and why were they following her? She wanted to believe that any sinister thoughts she might conjure were the work of an overactive imagination. But part of her—the part that could never forget what had happened to her sister, Ali—knew that no one was ever safe.
The door banged open and Gideon walked into the cabin, a string of cleaned perch in his hand. “Here’s today’s main course,” he said. “Caught fresh this morning from the best ice fishing hole on the lake.”
“I hate fish,” Ellie moaned.
“You’ll like these,” he assured her. “And if you don’t, you can close your eyes and pretend you’re eating chicken.”
Despite the lighthearted banter, there was a marked change in Gideon’s demeanor, and Dani wondered what had happened since he left to finish his chores. His mouth was set in an anxious frown, and his eyes were wary. He placed the fish on the counter and turned to face the group.
“Before I start to make dinner, I need to grab a few things from the barn. Maybe your leader can give me a hand. You kids can set the table while we’re gone. Paper plates are in the cupboard above the sink, and folding chairs are stacked in the closet by the door.”
The edge to his tone made Dani suspect there was more on the agenda than retrieving supplies. As she slipped on her coat and followed him outside, she found herself wondering what could possibly have happened to explain the shift in his attitude.
She trailed Gideon and Lou along the tramped-down path to the barn, a ramshackle building with a painted red door. Gideon pulled out a set of keys to unlatch the rusty padlock, then opened the door and flicked on a light switch, bathing the space in a shadowy glow. She detected the scent of fresh hay and a slight whiff of something that smelled like oil. In the center of the room was an aluminum boat with a shiny new motor set next to it on a tarp. Along the back wall, an old push lawn mower, some power tools and a few broken chairs shared space with a beat-up snowmobile with a black leather seat held together by duct tape.
Gideon sat on a bale of straw and, with a curt nod, indicated that she should do the same. Lou shot her a look of supreme disillusionment as he curled into a ball beside his master’s booted feet.
“I thought we could have a little talk without the kids around.” Gideon’s face was a mask of shadows in the dim light.
She nodded. She couldn’t imagine what he needed to talk to her about, unless he was rethinking his decision to allow the group to stay in the cabin. Maybe he was about to suggest that they set up camp in the barn, which would be fine, though slightly chilly for those whose sleeping bags lacked extra insulation.
But